The Odds of Loving Grover Cleveland

by Rebekah Crane

  “Great.” Cassie says exaggeratedly. “I’m gonna go vomit.”

  Grover clicks his tongue at her. “Sticks, that isn’t your style.”

  Cassie walks away without a word.

  Grover and I just stare at each other. His skin has a clean sheen to it, almost like he’s wax. Last night doesn’t feel real. I reach up and touch his wet hair, just to make sure. He does the same to one of my braids.

  Kerry claps three times, the sound reverberating through the mess hall, and I jump.

  “The only way to be found,” Kerry yells.

  I take my hand away from Grover’s hair. “Is to admit we’re lost,” I say.

  “Amen.” Grover winks. He grabs an apple out of the fruit bin and tosses it into the air. I catch it.

  “An apple a day,” he says.

  “Keeps the doctor away.”

  “God, I hope that’s true.”

  All during breakfast, Grover’s hand rests on my thigh. None of us say much. My head feels heavy on my neck, and the spot where Grover is touching me is warm. He bites into the apple, and it cracks open like a log being split. He offers me a bite, but I shake my head. Grover needs it more than I do.

  When Kerry dismisses everyone, Grover says, “Archery. I think I’m interested in archery this morning. I believe overnight my aim has improved. I might actually hit the target today.”

  “Me, too,” I say as Cassie gets up from the table without a word. “And we’ll swim this afternoon?”

  “Whatever, Katniss.” She starts to walk away.

  I smile at Grover.

  But as we walk to archery, I stop for a moment. I didn’t notice what Cassie had for breakfast, but she must have eaten something. And the diet pills are still in her bag.

  Grover grabs my hand and gives it a tug toward him. He pins me against a tree and snaps a green leaf free from a branch. He traces the length of my arm with it, brushing it against my skin like a feather.

  “Can you feel that?”

  Before I can even nod, his lips connect with mine, and any questions I have about Cassie or anything else drift far away.

  “I can’t do it!” Cassie yells as her head pops out of the water.

  “Yes, you can.” I yawn into my hand. A fatigue-induced tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it way. I pull a memory from last night to the surface to help trudge through the rest of the day, like a caffeine shot. But the longer this swim lesson goes on, the less the memories work.

  “No. I. Can’t.” Cassie annunciates every word.

  I sit back on my hands on the dock. The sun beats down on my face. I point to the yellow diving stick sitting on the bottom of Lake Kimball.

  “It’s right there. Try again.”

  Cassie pushes out an exasperated breath before diving back under. I close my eyes for a second and use the memory of Grover tracing my collarbone with his fingertips from one of my shoulders to another to keep me going. My stomach pulls in tight at the thought. I touch my lips and remember the salt from the popcorn and the way his arms covered in shivers when I kissed the soft spot right behind his ear.

  “You’re not even watching me!” My eyes fly open. Cassie stands in water up to her shoulders in the yellow zone. “What if I was drowning?”

  “Stop being dramatic. Madison is right there.” I point to the beach where she stands with a red life preserver hugged to her chest.

  “Mads is not going to save me.”

  “Well, maybe you should have been nicer to her. She’s not that bad.”

  “Maybe you should have been watching me.”

  I ignore the jab. “Did you get the diving stick?”

  “No. I can’t find it,” Cassie says.

  “Just open your eyes under the water.”

  “I’m not opening my eyes in this cesspool.” Cassie points at a glistening Lake Kimball. “I’ll get pinkeye.”

  “No you won’t. That’s not how you get pinkeye anyway.” I yawn again.

  “Why are you so tired?” Cassie asks.

  “I didn’t sleep well.” It’s not a lie, but the uncomfortable feeling in my gut tells me it’s not exactly the truth either. I wipe away the sweat beading on my forehead and change the subject. “Just hold your breath, slowly blowing bubbles out of your nose on your way down to the bottom. When you see the ring, grab it, and then push your feet as hard as you can off of the lake floor to make your way back to the surface.”

  “You make it sound easy.”

  “It is easy.” My shoulders slump and my voice carries a sharper tone.

  “What if I can’t make it?”

  “Just come back up.”

  “You make that sound so easy,” Cassie snaps. Her voice is tight in her throat. “But it’s not that easy to just keep coming up to the surface for air. It’s tiring. And the farther I get to the bottom the harder it is to get back up. And then what if I can’t. What if I just can’t get to the surface anymore?”

  “You can do it.” I sound unconvincing.

  “What if I can’t?”

  “Then I’ll jump in and save you.”

  “You were just closing your eyes,” Cassie barks. “You can’t always be there to save me, Zander, and you won’t.”

  “Then don’t do it!” I yell, standing up on the dock, exhausted. The sun is just so hot on my skin and my eyes are blurry from sweat and I can’t seem to find a memory that makes this better. “I don’t care!”

  Cassie takes a step back from me in the water. “You don’t care?”

  I run my hands through my braided hair. “Look, let’s skip the lesson for today. We’ll work on it tomorrow.”

  “You’re quitting on me?”

  “You make it sound like I’m abandoning you,” I say.

  “Are you?” Cassie’s eyes are fierce.

  “I’m just trying so hard and you make it so difficult.”

  “I’m sorry to be difficult.”

  I pick up my towel, trying to ignore her goading.

  “So you’re just giving up on me?” Cassie snaps.

  “God, Cassie. Why does it always have to be about you? It’s not all about you,” I yell again. “You’re so fucking selfish.”

  Cassie’s jaw gets tight and she takes another step back. “Maybe I’m selfish because no one ever gives a shit. I’m the only one who cares about me.”

  I blow out an exaggerated breath and roll my eyes. I’m too tired for this conversation. “Let’s just try this again tomorrow.”

  Cassie climbs out of the water. “Fine. That’s fine.” She runs her shoulder into me as she walks down the dock, mumbling something about today being all we have, but the words get lost in my head as soon as they enter, disappearing into a cloud of fatigue.

  CHAPTER 27

  Cher Papa,

  J’ai embrassé une fille et je l’aime.

  Cordialement,

  Alex Trebek

  When I get back to the cabin, Dori is sleeping in her bunk. I fall into my bed. Dori sleeps a lot, but I don’t think we’re tired for the same reason. She said in group share-apy that she’s literally tired of life. She sleeps so she doesn’t have to deal with it. Today, I’m tired for the opposite reason.

  The pillow cradles my head. I pull my lousy sheet up to my ears, ignoring the bitter remnants of my fight with Cassie that circle around in my mind and focusing on the better ones—Grover skimming his fingers over every vertebra in my back. Me kissing my way from the top of his forehead to his lips and to his chin and down his neck. The bed gets warm as my limbs melt into the hard mattress. I coax more memories out—my tongue tracing the inside of his mouth. Grover kissing my stomach. And then I’m gone.

  I wake up when it’s time for dinner, peeling my face off of my pillow. My head hurts from being in one position, and my braids are mashed down on the side of my head.

  I pull out the braids and splash water on my face before heading to the mess hall.

  Cassie stands outside, pacing the deck, like an armed soldier keeping guard. When I ge
t closer, I see that she’s reading something.

  “Is that the letter from your aunt?” I ask.

  Cassie whips around and crumbles the paper into a ball in her hand.

  “Like you care.” I can’t stop my eyes from rolling. Cassie looks at my hair. “And you took out your braids.”

  “They were hurting my head.” My voice is flat.

  “Whatever.” She shoves the letter into her pocket and pushes past me into the mess hall.

  The tension between us doesn’t ease when we sit down. Grover looks at Cassie and me across the table. “So how did the lesson go?”

  “It didn’t,” Cassie says. “Thanks to little Miss I-Need-A-Fucking-Nap.”

  “I was tired.” I glance at Grover out of the corner of my eye.

  “From being up all night?” Bek chimes in, his mouth full of food. He reaches over the table and takes my chocolate milk. I stare down at my tray, unable to look at Cassie.

  “What?” Cassie sounds genuinely surprised.

  “Grover and Zander were up all night.” Bek takes a sip of my milk.

  “Give that back to me.” I snatch the cup from his hands. Little bits of food float at the top. “Gross.” I hand it back to him.

  “Is he lying?” Cassie’s words come through her teeth.

  “You told him?” I ask Grover.

  “He woke up when I came back in the cabin. I couldn’t lie to him. Then it would be like I condone lying, which I don’t, and then he might start lying again.” Grover shrugs.

  “You snuck out without me?” Cassie scoots her chair away from me. I glare at Bek and don’t say anything. “So you couldn’t teach me today because you were up all night giving Cleve a bad blow job? You said you’d help me.”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing all summer?” I blurt out and stab the macaroni and cheese on my plate.

  “So I’ve been your charity case?” Cassie asks.

  “That’s not what I said. Stop twisting my words.”

  “I don’t know who the real liar is now. Bek or Zander.”

  “I didn’t lie to you,” I say.

  “No, you just didn’t include me, which is worse than lying.”

  Cassie gets up and slams her chair under the table. We all sit in silence as she stalks out of the mess hall. I look from Grover to Bek, tired and sick of always chasing after Cassie when she has a fit. Grover looks guilty. But no one goes after her.

  It isn’t until we’re cleaning up that I realize she didn’t have any food on her tray.

  CHAPTER 28

  Dear Aunt Chey,

  Courage: To summon bravery within oneself. To do something you never thought you could do. To face the truth. To act with confidence. To finally admit what your life is and will always be. To see the end and know it.

  Cassie

  When I get back to the cabin that night, I find the University of Arizona sweatshirt and Molly’s quilt on my bed. I pack them away in my bag and stuff it under the bunk bed.

  Cassie stays silent. She doesn’t say a word to any of us, not even Grover. A day passes and another. My stubborn side comes out—the side that kept me quiet for so many years with Molly. The side that made me numb. Cassie and I sit across from each other at meals, but I grind my teeth and choke on my words. I spend my time at archery and arts and crafts. We don’t swim.

  And Grover watches it all. He slides his hand over my thigh under the table, helping to ease everything inside of me, but I still stay silent.

  In the cabin, I write letters to my parents and talk to Dori about her plans to confront her mom when she gets home.

  “I’m gonna ask to live with my dad,” she says. “I don’t care if he lives on the other side of the country and I’ll have to make new friends. My friends kind of suck anyway.”

  I glance at Cassie, who’s peeling nail polish from her toenails.

  “That sounds like a good plan.”

  “I’m just tired of being tired,” Dori says. “What about you? What are you going to do when you get home?”

  “Home?” I don’t even like saying the word. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

  In the morning, I find Grover leaning against a picnic bench outside of my cabin.

  “Grover, you’re not supposed to be over here,” Madison says.

  “What would humanity be if all anyone ever did was what they were supposed to do? Jesus was supposed to be a carpenter. What would have happened if he didn’t break the rules and become the Son of God?”

  Madison shakes her head and laughs. “It’s too early for this.”

  The rest of the cabin walks toward the mess hall, but Cassie lingers in the back of the group and glares at us as she passes. I do the same back to her.

  I lean back on the picnic table next to Grover. He takes my hand. “And the power play goes on.”

  I ignore the comment.

  He lifts my hand and places it directly on top of his. His fingers extend more than a knuckle past mine. I press my palm into his until both our hands are touching entirely, and the anger I feel toward Cassie melts away. I sigh and lay my head on Grover’s arm.

  “Fancy a game of tetherball before breakfast?” he asks.

  “Against you?” Grover nods and I smile. “You’re on.”

  We walk over to the tetherball court by the mess hall. The ball hangs from the pole, dangling in the breeze.

  “You can start,” Grover says.

  I take the ball from him, thoroughly prepared to kick his ass. We’ve never played, but I beat Bek just last week, even though he told me he was the Tetherball Champion of Canada.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “Ready.”

  I pull my arm back and lift the ball high in the air. I smack it with as much force as I can. Grover jumps when it gets to his side of the court and stops the ball with one of his hands. He tosses it back at me. It soars over my head and out of arm’s reach. When it gets back to his side, he does it again and again and again, until the ball wraps tightly around the pole and he wins.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Best two out of three.”

  Grover smiles as he unwraps the ball from the pole. “You can start again.”

  I take the same stance and the game begins. When the ball smacks against the pole, announcing Grover’s win for a second time, I stomp my foot.

  “But that’s unfair. You’re taller than me and you have big hands.”

  “Why, thank you.” He gives me one of his winks. “Why do you care so much about winning anyway?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No . . .” I take a step back from the court, my adrenaline from the game fizzling out. “Maybe . . .”

  “Maybe what?”

  “You’re tricking me.”

  “Me?”

  I sit down on the ground. Grover takes the seat next to me. He picks up my hand again and traces the outline of it with his finger. I don’t ever want this summer to end.

  “Someone has to be the bigger person.” He presses his palm to mine. “See.”

  I lean my head on his shoulder. “Yes. I see.” He doesn’t let go of my hand. “You know you could have just said that.”

  “That’s boring. Plus, I like seeing you jump.”

  I nudge him in the side.

  In the mess hall, I stop with my tray of food behind our table. Cassie’s back is to me. Grover taps my back with his tray to move me forward. I try not to groan as I take a seat next to her.

  I eat half of my meal, every few bites glancing at Cassie. She takes a few sips of water as she peels an orange one bit at a time. When the skin is off, she pulls each slice apart, but not a single one goes in her mouth.

  “Aren’t you going to eat it?” I ask.

  She doesn’t say anything, but takes one of the slices and slams her hand down on it, crushing it flat. A piece of pulp lands on my cheek and I wipe it away.

  “You need to eat, Cassie.”

  “You’re not my mother.” Sh
e smashes another one.

  “I can see you’re making fresh-squeezed orange juice this morning, Sticks. How healthy of you,” Grover adds. “I hear vitamin C is all the rage.”

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “Maslow says you need to eat,” I qualify.

  “I don’t give a shit about Maslow.”

  “Then do it for me.”

  Cassie looks at me with blazing eyes. “Why would I do anything for you?”

  I take a breath. Durga, Durga, Durga. I remind myself to be a warrior. “Because I care about you,” I say.

  Cassie cackles in her seat, tossing her head back. She laughs like I’ve just cracked the biggest joke she’s ever heard.

  “You don’t care about me.”

  “Yes, I do.” I touch her arm.

  “No touching, remember.” Cassie smiles at me with clenched teeth. It’s not a real smile, but more like she’s challenging me and she’s getting a kick out of it. She raises her hand, yelling for Kerry.

  “Yes, Cassie,” he says.

  “I’d like to acknowledge something this morning.” Cassie speaks loud enough that the whole mess hall goes silent and turns toward our table.

  “You’d like to acknowledge something.” He repeats it like he’s clarifying something he misheard.

  Cassie nods and stands up from her seat, glaring down at me.

  “I know why Zander was sent to camp.”

  The moment the words come out of her mouth, my stomach dives to the floor and I freeze in my seat. I can’t even bring my arm up to yank her down. And then it all comes out in one waterfall of words.

  “Cassie, that’s not—” Kerry tries to say, but her booming voice cuts him off.

  “She almost drowned at a swim meet because she was so sad about her dead sister who died choking on an apple. And her fat-ass coach had to give her mouth to mouth. I was right. She was an apathetic mess who was dead on the inside . . . just like her sister.” Cassie’s vacant eyes haven’t left me. I feel a tear roll down my cheek and plop on my bare knee. And Cassie just watches it fall.

  I run out of the mess hall, pushing the doors as hard as I can, and take off toward the archery field. I need to disappear into the woods and hide in the trees. I choke on my breath as I trip over a root poking out of the ground, but Grover grabs my arm, catching me before I fall. I didn’t know he was behind me.